


This Lost and Found City

by b_interesting



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Mental Disorder, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, Schizophrenia, Superheroes, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_interesting/pseuds/b_interesting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A superhero sworn to protect his city at all costs must fight criminals on a daily basis. What happens when he begins to realise that there may be a bigger danger on the horizon, and that he may have an even deadlier foe to face: his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Lost and Found City

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few errors. If you find any, bounce them back to me and I'll change it!
> 
> Enjoy.

A fist collided with a jaw. A body was thrown down the alleyway, hitting the wall with a loud thump. Crime doesn’t pay he thought to himself. A bloody nose and broken bones don’t pay either. He walked towards the bloodied criminal laying against the wall, another lost cause destined to rot in a prison cell. He’d seen it many times before, he was a superhero – of course he had.

Grabbing his arms tightly together and hoisting him to his feet, he looked up to the police cars forming at the opening of the darkened side street and pulled the man along, passing him over to where the officers stood. They mumbled their appreciation, focusing more on the criminal than himself. This was typical; the people in this town rarely spoke, just quiet whispers. Like the way you would speak in a hospital, around things which require delicacy.

He walked away from the scene, ready to go back to his headquarters on the other side of the town. Headquarters is a bit of an overstatement, he said to himself. More of a glorified hotel. He found himself walking up the stone steps, opening the door to the base.

The walls, floors and ceilings were all white. Metallic furniture with little colour decorating the main operating area. A silver control console was placed at the far wall, serving as his main computer. Doors at either side of the room led to various other rooms; bathroom, bedroom, kitchen. Domestic things. The furniture was all white in these rooms as well, a concept that, as he thought about, he’d had no direct input with. It had always just been white and he'd never thought about changing it.

Not being in the door 10 minutes, the large screen hooked up to the control console began to flash, and details of his next pursuit were showing on the screen. He turned away to step towards the door. Wait he thought. He stopped and looked up at the screen again. It was still showing the same information as it was before. It was nothing he said to himself, shrugging it off and resuming his stance as he placed his hand on the door. But what he thought he'd seen was still lingering at the back of his mind.

Where on the screen it had shown the profile data of the criminal he was about to encounter, he could have sworn it had flickered to a different profile. One of a hospital patient, admittedly one he must not have encountered before, whose database picture looked exactly like him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He stepped out onto the street. From the outside it was just a normal neighbourhood. Passers-by would never realise that some of the most advanced software on the planet resided in a small building on the left side of the street. I guess the same could be said for a lot of things in that town. From the outside, it was perfect.

Walking a few streets along, crossing at sets of traffic lights and listening out for any sounds of the crime, he speedily headed towards where the computer had told him to go. He turned a corner and spotted a darkened, wide alleyway coming off the street he was on and a little buzzer went off in his head. There, he told himself.

Steeling up and pacing towards where it was, he kept his footsteps quiet and tuned his ultrasensitive vision to see into the dim light at the scene, working out the basic outline of the situation. A man. A gun. Two elderly people. Scared, elderly people. Slowing down, he veered off to the side slightly, leaning against the wall next to the entrance. Why is it always alleyways? He thought to himself.

Mentally kicking himself to focus, he figured out a small map in his head of a plan. He listened closely for a minute, tuning his sonic hearing to even the slightest detail. He could hear the sounds of shaky breaths and a gloved finger against the trigger of a gun. Not loaded, he noted. He pushed a button on a device on his wrist which alerted the nearest police officers to his whereabouts. Always handy, he thought, twisting it around so the screen could not distract him.

Taking a small breath, he subtly moved into the alleyway, sticking to the shadows at the sides. He came up behind the criminal and placed a swooping kick to his feet, knocking him to the ground. He exchanged a glance with one of the victims – an old man – to assure him that he was the good guy, but the old man had already recognised him and was pulling his wife to her feet and the two were proceeding back out of the alleyway.

He grabbed the man’s arms and dragged him up, roughly pressing him against the wall as he twisted his arms into a knot. He heard a siren and moved towards it, pulling the criminal along with him. The guy didn’t seem as if he had any fight left in him, and it made him wonder why people committed the crimes that they did. How many of them had no other choice? He handed the perp to a police officer, and he heard the sounds of handcuffs snapping together as he walked away.

He began to type notes into his watch which would send them straight back to his computer database, when he was interrupted by a small cough from behind him. He turned around just as a young-ish looking policewoman with her hair pulled back into a bun tapped him on the shoulder, trying to get his attention.

“The Chief says it’s time to see her” she said. She was speaking quietly, as if nervous that she would snap him out of a trance. He could tell from the way she held herself that she hadn’t been on the job long. That she still had so much left to see. He looked over to where she was gesturing for him to go, and sighed, hearing himself mutter a response to the girl as he started to walk.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He reached a trio of police officers who were standing next to a police car which was parked at the curb. This one was empty except for a few coffee cups, so the criminal had to be in one of the others. When he approached, two of the police officers moved away, leaving one.

The officer left standing there was a middle aged woman with a mousy brown ponytail and a blank expression on her face, not giving any clues to her emotions. The Chief, as she was known around here. She greeted him with a “Hello, again. How have you been since we last spoke?”

The hero replied with a disgruntled look. He had always felt that this woman pried a lot. She always asked him questions about how he was feeling and what he was thinking, as if they were oh-so important to her life. “I’ve been fine.” He said after a few moments.

“You’ve done well,” the woman said once he’d stopped. “You’re progressing”. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. She always looked strangely professional. Hair pulled back, no creases in her clothes. She looked like she belonged in an office, not stuck dealing with criminals. He didn’t know what she meant by this. Had he solved this differently? Had he tried harder? He couldn’t see any progression, but then again, she was always vague like this. It almost wouldn’t be a conversation with her without some general mystery that left him questioning the very incentive of his moves.

After a few moments of silence, she said “Tell me what happened”. He looked at the sincere look on her face and replied “You know what happened, I’m sure someone told you”. Her stare didn’t give up, so he just sighed and said “Well, I’m sure someone will fill you in. I’m very busy at the moment” Not a total lie he thought. She looked down at a watch he hadn’t noticed she was wearing and sighed. “I think we’ve run out of time. I’ll see you again soon” she said, turning away towards the door of a police car that had been edging towards her.

He nodded towards her as she climbed in and drove off, and decided that it would be a lot easier if he avoided encounters with her in the future. She would probably slow down any supposed ‘progress’ he was making. He went over to check if the old couple were okay, but by then they had already been ushered away by officers.

Deciding that it would be better if he went back to his apartment to wait for more alerts, he made his way back down the street, taking the same route as he had earlier.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As he stepped back into his minimalistic base, he went straight over to the computer. He clicked the ‘x’ button on the case file he had left open, and clicked a separate icon in the corner of the screen to file a log of the previous events, noting down that the criminal in question had been detained.

He had gotten used to dealing with all of the petty – yet important – crimes. The cases that had to be dealt with there and then, usually with no prior planning. He searched the database for any crimes that were happening at that time, and he clicked on one that the computer had picked up on 30 seconds before.

A face flashed onto the computer screen along with a name and a description of the crime. Computer sure works fast he noted, only slightly impressed. He read the address of the crime and made his way across the room and out of the door. It occurred to him that he spent most of his time just walking in and out of his front door, whether it was leaving to save someone or coming back to document it. He never had what regular people would call ‘downtime’.

Arriving on the road where the computer said the crime was occurring, he stopped as he saw a woman walking down the street. Looking at her, he felt a tug in his gut. An instant reaction with no obvious cause. Focus he thought. Paying attention saved lives. Being there at the right time could be the difference between life and death.

He rounded a corner, looking up at a house towards the bottom of the road. He must have seen it a thousand times, but today was different. The tug was back. He was out of sorts today, and he made a mental note to avoid the Chief when this was over, deciding that he didn’t have time to listen to her very vague comments.

There was a small bang, like the sound of a filing cabinet being closed or a gurney knocking into a doorframe, and he turned around. The sound was far away, only noticeable because of the bionic hearing he was gifted with. Hearing that was one of the main reasons he could save people so quickly. He could hear a scream from a mile away, a tool that always came in handy when saving people from attackers.

He ran down towards where the sound was coming from and instantly spotted the problem. Stood at the entrance to a dingy looking office building was a tall man in dark clothes and a balaclava, holding a nasty-looking gun in one hand and a scared man in the other. He recognised the outline of the man from his computer. A crowd of scared looking spectators was beginning to form, but, he observed, not closely enough to be in any immediate danger. Good he thought, makes things a lot easier.

He noticed there were no police cars around, but decided to proceed anyway. He could detain the man until they got there. Circling his way around the outline of the crowd, he found a set of fire escape stairs at the side of the building and raced up them using his enhanced speed. When he reached the second to last flight, he stopped, looking around for his next move. Stand on the ledge. Move around to the front. Jump. Stun the attacker. One- no, two blows to the head. Grab the gun. Save the man. He went over the plan again, thinking over all the possibilities that could go wrong.

A helicopter passed overhead and the criminal looked up. He saw his opening. Moving around the side of the building, he leaped off the side and landed smoothly and unnoticed right behind the gunman. He smacked his hands on either side of the attackers head, grabbed his arms and twisted them backwards until he was facing him. Landing a quick punch to either side of his head, the gun clattered from his hand as the disorientated and bruised man crumpled to the ground. Several members of the crowd had managed to pull the victim away and were beginning to reassure and calm him.

Sirens were pulling up and the crowd was backing away, trying to make room for the police officers moving into the scene. Two of them were already moving towards them at an alarming pace, pulling out handcuffs and speaking into radios. The hero reached down and pulled off the man’s balaclava, taking a note of his face in case of a future encounter. Who am I kidding he thought. He’s never getting out. The officers took the man away and placed him in the back of a police car.

Something about the man had seemed familiar, as if he’d seen him from somewhere other than his computer. It made a small shiver crawl up his spine but he shook it off. He decided that he definitely needed to focus on some different cases for a while. Something must have been taking its toll that day.

He was just beginning to move towards where a new crowd of people were gathering, this time to thank the superhero for ‘being so brave’, a woman with eyes that looked as if they’d seen anything stepped out in front of him. Oh good, the chief’s back. Before he could come up with any clever excuse to leave, she was greeting him with an “Afternoon” and asking how he was. He didn’t know what she wanted him to say. “I’m fine” He said, for what felt like the millionth time. It was always the same with her.

“Well, tell me what happened.” She responded. “Something must have happened for you to be here.” It annoyed him that she did that. Always asked him instead of just getting the facts from someone else. Couldn’t she see he was a busy person?

“There was a man. He had a gun. He had hostages.” He said, trying to be as vague as possible. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to talk to her, he just didn’t. He didn’t feel very heroic then, more like a stubborn man who didn’t want to talk about things he knew he had to.

Just she was about to comment, there was a ding and he looked down at his watch. Saved by the bell he joked to himself. He made his excuses to leave and looked down at the message telling him to check in with his computer. Just as he was leaving he heard her say the regular “I’ll see you next time.” And he made his way out of the gradually dispersing crowd of citizens and police cars. The man who had been grabbed – he noted – was gone, probably in the back of an ambulance or a police car.

He thought about the hospital patient he had seen before on his computer screen, but shook the memory away. Trick of the light he said to himself as he walked along the street and back in the direction of his apartment.

He looked back towards the end of the street, back to where he could see just round the corner at the house he had passed before. He couldn’t understand why but the pang was back. He thought about making his way back towards it but thought against it, deciding it would be better to just make his way back to the apartment to confirm his victory with his computer.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, the computer hadn’t said anything to him at all. After he’d reported the capture of the criminal, it had flashed that there were no more crimes for him to encounter, and he had sat waiting patiently for another to come in. He occasionally moved his attention over to the TV that was perched on the far end of the main room to where the news was showing, looking for anything that could take him somewhere more interesting.

After an hour of waiting, he decided that he would just go out and patrol the streets to see if there was anyone he could help. Taking one final look at the blank computer, he moved out of the front door, down the stone steps and began to walk along the street.

He could hear the repetitive whispers of the people just beyond his line of sight. The people wandering around the city, shopping or working or driving around. Getting on with their lives. His ears couldn’t detect any screams of terror and he couldn’t see any people requiring his help. He was a few streets away from his house now, and the quiet around the city was disturbing to him.

Just as he was deciding to move onto a different neighbourhood – maybe one on the other side of town – his senses were distracted by a high-pitched giggle from around the corner of the road he was on. Walking slightly closer to where the sound came from, he heard another giggle, this time a slightly lower-pitched voice. Weird he thought. This wasn’t like the usually quiet words of the people he was surrounded by. They were sharp and clear, like a shout in the dead of night. He rounded the corner only to have one of two children – a little girl – run straight into his leg.

“Oops,” a small hmph and a giggle as a mass of blonde curls looked up at him. Just as he was about to instinctively reach down and help her up, a boy half-skipped over to him, looking on almost unaware of the fact that the girl was on the ground.

“What do you get when two dinosaurs crash together?” The child blurted out, a small grin on his face. Quick, how do I answer this. He thought. Struggling to think of an answer, the boy grew impatient. “Tyrannosaurus wrecks!” he giggled, which made the little girl laugh as well. He was just pulling her to her feet when a female voice shouted “Toby! Jenna!”

The hero looked up to where the voice came from and took a slight step back, unable to suppress the small shock he got as he saw the same woman from earlier walking towards where they were. The tug in his gut was back, stronger this time. He looked over towards the kids, trying to shake off the feeling but looking at them only seemed to make it stronger.

The kids were running over to her just as she said “I am so sorry about them, they do like to play around. Toby, I hope you weren’t bothering him. He’s very busy.” Her voice was soft but controlled. A parent who knew what she was doing. He didn’t know why, but he found himself imagining what she would be like at home. Not like a parent who just sat back and let their children run wild, but one who tucked them into bed at night, read them stories.

“Not a problem, Miss. Toby here was just telling me a joke. Weren’t you?” he heard himself reply, still looking at the woman’s face. Instead of speaking, the small boy just giggled again and ran off towards the corner, pulling his younger sibling along with him. “I’m sorry,” the woman said, “I’d better be going.” She sprinted off after the youngsters, saying things like ‘watch out for cars!’ Just as he was turning around to go, he heard one of the two children say “Mommy, where’s daddy?”

Right he thought, back to the search.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking through the downtown of the city, he was listening intently. This area was the center for crime, and he was on red alert looking for anything of interest. Anything remotely suspicious. He passed several alleyways which looked slightly worthwhile, but all were empty and abandoned.

He was about to move onto a different neighbourhood when his wristwatch flashed, telling him he was needed a few blocks away. He punched a few buttons to get some more information, but all it would tell him was that there was a gang involved and that it was a drugs raid. Just as he was going to click the button to alert the police, it told him that they were already at the scene.

This puzzled him, and he wondered why they would need his help if they already had a squad over there. But he didn’t stay around to question it long, and he rapidly made his way over to the address.

As he got there, he found two police cars and 6 officers. A few men and women were being handcuffed and taken into custody in the back of the cars. He could see another team of officers, this time drugs specialists, pulling up and entering the building; probably to retrieve whatever products came out of the illegal organisation. He headed over to an official looking man – clearly the head of a department – and asked what was going on.

“Drugs bust.” He replied, as if that were the most idiotic question he could have asked. “Chief said she wanted to see you here. Says it’s about the last time you spoke.” As he finished talking, a man a few meters away called him over and he walked off, leaving the hero to look around. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for until he saw the car pull up and the sophisticated woman step out of it.

Sighing internally, he walked over to where she was standing. “Chief,” he nodded in her direction. She stood with an unyielding expression on her face as she surveyed the scene.

Looking around as she spoke, she said “I called you over to talk about our last meeting. The criminal you captured, it seems like he’s running a few underground organisations. We’ve sent out our teams to infiltrate, but we’re getting reports from all over the city about different crimes. We think they’re all connected somehow. Could you look into them and see if you can find the source? One of our detectives is ready to take you back.” And on cue, a car pulled up alongside them, the passenger side door already opening, beckoning him in.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He replied. There was no obscurity to the conversation. No hidden meanings. Something was different. This was more serious. He got into the car without asking questions, but kept wondering to himself about what could be serious enough to bring even the Chief to a halt?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His computer was flashing at him, alerting him to a crime happening across town. He tapped the keyboard to bring up more information about it, but before it could say anything two more messages popped up in the top corners of the screen. More crimes.

A minute later 3 more alerts flashed across the scene. Oh no, this is bad. He thought to himself. Very. Very bad. He picked up his emergency telephone which was hooked into the main console – the one which rang straight to the head police. Dialling the numbers, it rang twice before the Chief picked up.

“Do you see what I was talking about?” She asked. She sounded stressed. “Do you understand what I’ve been trying to say.”

“Yes, I need you to send a team to each crime. I’ll tackle it from the source.” He replied, an air of authority in his voice. He heard a sigh from the other end of the line. She began to say something along the lines of ‘I don’t think you understand’, but she stopped herself and regained the composure in her voice.

“Are you sure you can handle it? It’s so soon” She replied. He wasn’t sure what she meant by the ‘soon’ part, but he had no time to argue with her. “Just go.” He said, while typing instructions into the computer, designating officers to different parts of the city. When he was satisfied with the alerts, he moved them all off the screen and focused on the red ‘HIGH ALERT’ sign that had made its way to the front. Pulling up the few details he had been given, he saw exactly who it was who had caused the distress.

On the screen, the database showed him a beefy, Caucasian man. At first he didn’t make a connection, because the last time he had seen him this man had been wearing a balaclava, but it was the same man who had taken a hostage in that building earlier in the week. It was also, he realised, the same man who had been responsible for the drug smuggling case he had looked at.

He quickly searched his computer for more history on the man, and found some more crimes he had been previously detained for. All of them major like drug busts and kidnappings. A note had been placed at the corner of his profile that read “Warning: Highly dangerous individual. Approach with caution.”, and he wondered to himself why this man wasn’t locked up in a maximum security prison.

He searched back for the details of the breach to check if anything had been updated, and he saw that a new piece of information had been added. He felt his blood run cold as the screen flashed the words ‘hostage’, ‘kidnap’, and ‘children’.

Wasting no more time, he launched himself along a corridor and into the very rarely used garage that was attached to the side of his house. He unlocked the car that he hardly drove, and backed it out of the driveway, speeding along the street and towards the criminal’s destination.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The directions his computer had given him lead to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. In the car, he made a 30 minute trip in less than 10, breaking every speed limit law there was that didn’t apply to him because hey, he’s a superhero. He slowed down as he approached it, driving the car slowly into the gravelled car-park, careful not to make a sound.

It was a dingy, grey building on a dingy, grey day. Complete with a few broken windows, an empty car park and a solid steel door that looked like his only apparent entrance. To the side of the building there were a few large storage crates left containing whatever the previous owners hadn’t bothered to throw away.

Climbing on top of one, he peered into a window and saw that the criminal was indeed inside. The man was facing the far wall with his back to the hero, assembling something. He looked over to the steel door and saw that the distance away from the villain was far enough that opening it wouldn’t alert him to the sound.

Perfect he thought, climbing down from the crates. He made his way back along the wall, keeping note to avoid being in the line of sight of any security cameras in case the criminal had tapped into the ancient mainframe.

He pushed opened the steel door and thanked every god that it didn’t make a sound. He snuck through a pathway that had been made by old boxes, making sure to keep out of sight of the captor. He heard whispers and scared sobs coming from one side of the hall. Hostages he thought. He crept around to get a better look at them and his heart sank as he got a clear shot of their faces.

The woman and children. The woman and children. The tug in his stomach was stronger than ever and he felt the urge to save them like he never had before. Like it wasn’t just his job, it was his duty. Every fibre in his being was telling him to go. Don’t think. Don’t plan. Just do.

But he stopped himself. He looked at them again and saw something that made his head sink along with his chest. Strapped to each of the victims was a large set of explosives. He saw a radio antenna protruding from the top of each one, all probably controlled by the remote control positioned in the criminal’s hand.

He moved around the set of boxes and hid behind a partition in the wall, supposedly separating what was left of a corridor. He traced his way through it and found himself a few feet away from the kidnapper. The man was facing away from him, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to make his move.

He planned it out quickly in his head. It was short and simple. Lunge. Grab. Fight. This was less about skill and more about desperation. He didn’t know why this woman was impairing his judgement so much but now all he could think about was go, go, go.

He took one final breath before making his move, but just as he stepped out the villain turned to face him. A sharp grin on his face, and his world began to fall apart.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything happened very quickly. He felt himself lunge for the controller. The sneer on the villain’s face growing larger and larger. Screams from behind him plunged his head into water he didn’t know he was surrounded by.

He heard crying. Sobs. Someone screamed the word “Dad” and he felt his entire being fold in on itself. His head flashed back to conversations with the Chief, except she wasn’t the Chief anymore. She was a woman in a suit in an office, with a notebook and a pen and a dusty bookshelf behind her. And he wasn’t him anymore. He was a man on a couch in that office, tears streaking down his face.

He couldn’t understand what was happening. Visions shot like bullets through his mind. He could remember memories that couldn’t possibly be his. But as soon as he thought them everything that he didn’t know he needed to know fell into place.

He was lying on a sofa in a darkened living room. An argument that had been his fault. Woken up by an unfamiliar sound in the quiet of the night. He got up to see what had happened. Thought maybe one of his children had gotten up for a glass of water. Maybe Toby had another nightmare. He began to walk up the stairs until he heard a great crash from the landing. The sound of a door being smashed open.

It was then that he noticed the broken window, the shards of glass laying on the ground. He heard a gunshot, a piercing scream. He took the stairs two by two but he was too late. The first thing he saw was his wife, a pool of blood, a wound that could never be healed. He felt himself go numb, and before he knew it he was on the ground. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his head but he forced his eyes to stay open.

“Jenna! Toby!” He felt himself scream. It was useless. He felt the waves crashing over him. Suffocating him. He heard his little girl scream “Daddy!” Another shot. Sobs. He wasn’t sure if they were coming from him or them. He heard sirens but it was too late. The last thing he saw before his eyelids closed was a toddler slumping to the ground in front of him, and everything faded to black.

That was it. He was gone. White light was all he could see in front of him. He couldn’t save them then and he couldn’t save them now. Two chances and he couldn’t do it. Guilt seeped into his bones as his mind cleared. The city was all gone. The criminals all locked away in a different part of his brain. He’s saved all that he can.

The light engulfed and he heard a soft beep . beep . beep . Conciousness gathering in his brain and making his pathways clearer.

It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. Repeated over and over in his head. A true hero accepts defeat after all.

And he opened his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> (This was for a school project and I got full marks for it)
> 
> (Party hard.)


End file.
